


A Girl, Three Boys, A Race

by cara1317



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, Other, Running AU, Track AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 02:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10376043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cara1317/pseuds/cara1317
Summary: Sugawara Koushi is many things –– new to town, an incoming first year, exceptionally blessed with good music taste –– but he most definitely is not a runner. Maybe, though, he’ll make a few exceptions.** REVEALED! From the runcharityzine hosted by @kevinkevinson on Tumblr **





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kevinkevinson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kevinkevinson/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Written for the @runcharityzine to support Casey in running the Boston Marathon and fundraising for Team for Kids!
> 
> Betaed by the lovely @gilrael, thank you!
> 
> If you couldn't tell, the title is inspired by a song... bonus points if you get the reference ;)

Sugawara Koushi is not a runner.

In fact, he usually will absolutely refuse to run at all — of his own free will, that is. Today, though, he quietly closes the door behind him and leans down to properly lace up his sneakers.

New year, new school. If he plans to join a sports team, it won't be so he can warm the bench all season. Better to start now and work his way up to wherever it is that first string players are at, right?

Scrolling through his music, he picks an upbeat English song. Even if he doesn’t know all the lyrics to it, it’s easy enough to hum along to the chorus. He starts walking along the sidewalk, planning to head to the hill behind his new high school, Karasuno, and run along it a few times.

At the crossroad, Suga closes his eyes for a moment and tilts his face upwards to relish the warmth of the sun.

BRRRRRRGHHHHH!

His eyes fly open. There’s a truck barreling towards him, but he’s frozen in place, legs refusing to move. He only just manages to squeeze his eyes shut and brace for the impact when a strong grip on his wrist yanks him backwards. The truck careens past, missing Suga and kicking leaves and dust off the ground in swirls.

Off balance, he spins and crashes into something solid. There's an “oomph” and Suga steels himself for whatever the afterlife is like. Peeking one eye open, he finds himself looking at a pair of earnest brown eyes.

  
_Huh,_ Suga thinks to himself.

"Are you alright?" asks the boy, concern evident in his expression.

Suga kind of just stares. _Am I alright?_

"Here, let's get you sitting down."

The boy tugs Suga over to the bench on the corner, and Suga absentmindedly notes that he hasn't let go of his hand yet. _Oh._ They're holding hands.

"Oh my god," he says.

The boy laughs. "Nope! It's just me, Daichi." He stammers then, averting his eyes and carding a hand through his close cropped hair. "Uh—I mean, Sawamura! Sawamura Dai—"

 _Daichi,_ Suga thinks absentmindedly. _That's a nice name._

"Ah, thanks," Daichi says, ears tipped with a red blush.

 _Oh god Koushi, way to go, now you seem like a creep,_ Suga frantically thinks to himself, realising that he’d mistakenly spoken out loud.

Suga laughs nervously, and Daichi joins in with embarrassment.

"No, really, it's okay. You're not a creep at all, I'm sure."

Suga claps a hand over his mouth so fast that he fairly smacks himself in the face, and if he wasn't mortified before, he definitely is now.

Daichi laughs again, and Suga notices that his smile curves soft and slow.

“Koushi, huh?”

He clears his throat and wills his voice not to squeak. “Sugawara, actually. Sugawara Koushi.” He sticks his free hand out and Dai— _Sawamura_ shakes his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Sugawara. Do you often make a habit of crossing the road with your eyes closed?”

Suga pulls his hands out of Daichi’s because one, he isn't sure he can handle much more hand-holding without spontaneously combusting, and two, he is positively offended by that comment. He says as much, and the latter just laughs again, grinning as if he knows that Suga isn't really upset at his words, which may or may not be true.

“You know,” Suga continues, “I just moved here, so I'm not used to crazy truck drivers or anything, especially ones that try to drive on the sidewalk.”

“Well, Miyagi’s a pretty quiet place for the most part. Nothing much happens around here, so I'm sure you'll be safe from truck fiascos.”

“Hopefully,” Suga agrees.

They fall silent for a moment. Scuffing the ground with his feet, Suga notices that Daichi has the same running shoes, right from the _Asics_ brand down to the crisscrossing teal details. A glance out of the corner of his eyes reveals that Daichi is probably out for a run as well, dressed in sports shorts and a loose t-shirt with a graphic design on it.

_Wait a second._

“Hey, I know that band!” Suga exclaims.

Daichi looks at him. “Really? Not many people do.”

“Yeah, Train, right?”

Daichi nods, his eyes lighting up.

“I went to go see them when they came in on tour! It was amazing!”

Suga can't help but gush; at the time, he’d had to drag his cousin out with him and bribe him with a month’s worth of dishes, so finding someone else who knows the band is an exciting moment, to say the least.

“Wait, was it the April performance in Tokyo?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I was there! Michimiya and I went, it was absolutely incredible. We got right up next to the stage and he took a photo with us!”

“No way!”

“Yeah, look!” Daichi fumbles for his phone, and after a few seconds, pulls up a slightly blurry photo. Amidst the bright colours, Suga can see him, grin wide on his face, squashed close to a girl with short brown hair, and of course, none other than Pat Monahan.

“Wow, that's so cool.” He motions towards the girl in the photo. “Michimiya, is she your girlfriend?”

Daichi snorts. “No, no, we’re just friends. We grew up together, so the two of us are honestly more like siblings than anything. I made her go to the concert with me, but we still had a lot of fun, even if she didn't know Train at all.”

Suga smiles, and he's sort of relieved, because he'd be lying to himself if he said that he hadn't had a little stab of jealousy upon hearing about Daichi’s friend.

“Say, are you starting school at Karasuno this year?”

“Yeah, are you?”

“Mhm, I'll be a first year.”

“Me too. It'll be good to know someone going in,” Suga admits.

“Definitely.”

As much as he doesn't want to leave, he does need to go on his run before he loses what little motivation he has.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “but I should really get going, I'm supposed to be home in twenty, and I haven't even made it to the hill yet.”

“Twenty minutes is plenty of time to get there,” Daichi jokes. He looks Suga up and down. “I'm going for a run there… I'm guessing you are too?”

Suga forgets his promise to himself _to play it cool, be a normal person_ and blurts, “Is that an invitation?”

Daichi blinks once, twice, and then that smile is back. “Yeah, it is.”

 

* * *

 

 

Suga takes it all back.

All of it.

Everything.

Because “Heartbreak Hill,” as Daichi affectionately calls it, is _absolute murder._

By the time twenty minutes have passed, Suga is a wheezing, red-faced mess, partly thanks to their run and partly because of sunburn. All he wants to do is take a bath in aloe vera and sleep for seven days straight.

Daichi laughs himself to tears when Suga announces this, and even harder when Suga flops on a patch of grass, asks him to “please just bury me here,” and proceeds to act out his sweaty demise.

They lie there, side-by-side, until Daichi stops hiccuping and their breathing has evened out. Finally, Daichi gets up. He turns and holds out a hand.

Suga takes it, and he pulls him up.

“See you tomorrow?” he asks, and Suga, despite the tired ache seeping into his muscles, says yes.

They end up meeting at the hill every morning after that, and Suga thinks that maybe running isn't all that bad.

 

* * *

 

 

He stumbles to a stop, having run all the way here, worried he’d be late. Thankfully, first bell hasn't even rung yet.

The school gateway arches high above his head, and the black iron stands out against the blue sky and the white banner hanging from it, flapping in the late summer breeze.

 _Welcome back to school,_ it reads in neat kanji.

Suga takes a deep breath and straightens the collar of his uniform.

Other students are walking in as well, some alone, some in groups, and still more stand with posters and flyers, advertising for clubs or directing new students around the school grounds.

By the time the welcoming ceremony is over, and Suga tracks down his name on the classroom lists, he’s feeling a little lost and overwhelmed. Nevertheless, he makes his way to room 1-B and introduces himself to Kawasaki-sensei. She pencils in a neat checkmark next to his name on the clipboard, and directs him to a window seat towards the back.

He hooks his bag over the back of his chair and slides into his seat.

“Hello,” comes a voice on his right. Suga turns to see a girl with beautiful, wavy black hair and glasses. “I’m Shimizu Kiyoko,” she greets, and Suga tries to remember how to breathe.

“HiI’mSugawaraKoushi,” he replies, the words running out of his mouth almost intelligibly, and then, “It’s nice to meet you,” at a more understandable pace.

She smiles.

Just then, Daichi plops into the seat in front of him.

“Hey Daichi,” he says, the phrase familiar after the months of summer spent together.

“Suga, hey.” He turns around in his seat. “How’s it goi— uh, h-hi.”

Suga can’t help but giggle, and Daichi normally would have glared at him by now, except he’s still staring at their lovely new classmate. Boy, is Suga glad that he got here before Daichi did, because this is priceless.

“Daichi, this is Shimizu.” He nods towards Daichi. “This is Daichi, Sawamura Daichi.”

Kiyoko gives a little wave. “How are you, Sawamura-kun?”

“Fine,” Daichi says, a little breathlessly, and Suga can’t tell if he’s amused by Daichi’s encounter or not, but the way that the rest of the class is watching the exchange most definitely is. He can already tell that Kiyoko will be quite popular, and he’s secretly glad that he was one of the first people to say hello to her.

After another moment of Daichi gaping, Suga decides to save his dignity for him.

“Say, Daichi, did you get that new CD this morning?”

Daichi snaps back to reality. “Oh, yeah!” He rummages in his bag and pulls the recording out, still packaged in plastic. “Hot off the press, your majesty.” He presents it to Suga with a flourish, holding it out with both hands.

“Is that Train?” Kiyoko asks.

They turn to her.

“Yeah!” Suga says, at the same time that Daichi goes, “You know them?”

Kiyoko eagerly leans forward. “Yes! They’re amazing, right? Which is your favourite song?”

The conversation flows easily after that. They argue over which is the best and worst track — Daichi thinks it’s “Silver Dollar;” Suga and Kiyoko high five when they agree that “Working Girl” is better; they all agree that “What Good Is Saturday” is the worst — and make plans to see them the next time the band is in town.

The conversation shifts over time, and Kiyoko watches Daichi and Suga’s good-natured banter. She hums.

Suga looks at her, thinking he’s missed something. “What?”

“Oh, nothing, Sugawara-kun. I was just thinking.”

“Ah, gotcha.”

“Well, we all gotta do it sometime,” Daichi says, and Suga and Kiyoko stare at him.

Daichi flushes bright red.

Distantly, Suga knows that there’s still chatter in the classroom, but it feels like time has slowed down momentarily.

And then, Kiyoko is laughing. Full-out laughter, too, the kind that is belly deep and tickles along your ribs and down to your toes.

It’s contagious, and Suga finds himself laughing too, and then Daichi is as well. They get strange looks from the rest of their classmates, but it’s worth it.

Suga pats Daichi on the back, and Daichi coughs.

“You’re funny, Sawamura-kun, Sugawara-kun.”

 

* * *

 

After the last school bell rings and the sound of footsteps and locker doors slamming fade out from the hallways, it’s always peaceful. The unlucky students who have to stay behind to clean up get to enjoy that, at least.

Rays of sunshine stream through the windows and pool across the floor, making the dust in the air glitter and fading the wooden classroom desks to gold. Occasionally, there’s a shout from the schoolyards, and the metal _CLINK_ of a home run.

This afternoon, though, the peace is broken not thirty minutes after by an angry shout. Shoes slap against the floor, quickening in tempo as the voice gets louder.

 _I'm a good student,_ Suga thinks to himself, _I volunteer at the animal shelter. I do my homework on time and I listen to my parents… well, mostly… but still! I don't deserve to die in a school hallway._

Honestly, he should know better by now, but it really wasn’t his fault that the printer jammed. Nevertheless, he wasn’t about to stick around and face the vice principal’s wrath, which is why he’s here now, running for his life.

He dashes up a set of stairs, taking the steps two at a time, and rounds the corner, only to barrel into an unsuspecting student.

“I'm so sorry!”

The student pushes himself off the ground, rubbing an elbow. “No, it's okay. I wasn't watching where I was going.” He stands up, brushing off his shirt, and takes a step around the corner, peering out anxiously for incoming students.

“Azumane!” cries the vice principal. “Oh, I should have known it was you. Come back here!”

Suga doesn't waste a second. He grabs the boy’s — _Azumane’s?_ — hand and pulls him back around the corner, the two of them racing down the halls as fast as they can. He shoves a door open and the two of them tumble into an empty classroom. Suga flings the door shut and collapses against it, trying to catch his breath. Azumane is panting, too; hands on his knees, brown hair loosely curling around his face.

“Sorry,” Suga gasps. “I wasn’t trying to get you into trouble.”

Azumane looks up at him, and smiles ruefully. “Don’t worry, I’m always getting into trouble.”

Something in Suga’s expression must look alarmed, because the boy’s eyes grow wide and round and he straightens up, waving his hands frantically. “No, no, I didn’t mean— I just— it’s not like th— it’s just that trouble finds me easily!”

Suga can’t help the giggle that jumps out of his throat. The boy is tall, at least a few inches taller than Suga, and despite his intimidating height and unruly curls, he seems too kind to really be fearsome at all. _Like a teddy bear._

Azumane gives him a confused look at his laughter, but continues, “Somehow, I think that the vice principal is convinced that I’m in a gang, or something.”

Suga swallows down his laughter. “How did that happen?”

He’s genuinely curious, too, because although Azumane has the potential to seem scary, it’s mostly just his height; he doesn’t seem the gangster type at all.

The boy scratches at the back of his neck. “Er, well, I suppose he keeps catching me in compromising situations.”

Suga raises one eyebrow. “Compromising, huh?”

Azumane flushes bright red. “Ah! No, not like that! More like, well, on my first day here, at the entrance ceremony, I was late because I stopped to help a little girl pull her cat out of a tree. And then when I showed up, I was all scratched up and covered in dirt and leaves from it, so… I guess I looked—”

“—a little scary, huh,” Suga finishes.

Azumane huffs out a little laugh. “Yeah. And then I was thinking about trying out for the baseball team, so I stopped by their practice, and there was an extra baseball on the ground by the windows, so I picked it up, and he saw me and thought I was the one who had broken the flower pots on the top floor.”

“Wow,” says Suga. “I thought I had pretty bad luck, but—”

“Mine is definitely worse,” Azumane agrees.

“I’m Sugawara Koushi, by the way, hated by printers and wanted by the vice principal for jamming said printers.”

“Azumane Asahi,” he says, laughing, and yeah, there’s no way he could be a gangster with dimples like that.

 

* * *

 

 

Three weeks into school, Suga still hasn’t decided on a sport, but neither have Daichi or Asahi. It’s Kiyoko who suggests track to them.

“I’m planning to compete in hurdles, but there are plenty of different events. I’m sure you’ll find one that fits you.”

“Aren’t track events mostly solo, though?” Daichi asks.

“Not at all. If you wanted, we could all do one together.”

“I don’t know,” Asahi says doubtfully. “Sports have always been a bit of a disaster.”

It’s true — baseball was definitely out after the vice principal fiasco, and Asahi was too uncoordinated for soccer or basketball.

Still, Suga elbows him in the ribs. “C’mon, Asahi, cheer up. We can try it out and see how it goes!”

Daichi slaps him on the back, and Asahi trips forward again. “Yeah, don’t let that glass heart fail you now, huh?”

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try,” he offers.

 

* * *

 

 

He shifts his weight from foot to foot, nervously tugging at the edge of his black and orange jersey. The number “12” is printed on it in bold font.

“Worried?”

Suga whips around. “Who, me? Worried? Pffft… no.”

Daichi waits.

“Okay,” Suga admits, wilting a little. “Maybe. But it's our first race,” he adds defensively. “I'm allowed to be a little anxious!” He punches Daichi in the shoulder. Both he and Daichi wince at the force of it.

“Yeah.” Daichi coughs. “I can tell.”

“My stomach doesn’t feel too good,” says Asahi, coming up to them.

“Aw, not you too,” says Daichi, recovering.

Someone taps Asahi’s arm, and they turn around.

“Azumane,” Kiyoko starts, “please don’t be nervous. You’ve worked very hard and if we work together as a team, we will do well.”

Asahi looks ready to burst into tears at Kiyoko’s kind words, and Suga can’t blame him. After all, almost everyone has the same reaction when Kiyoko speaks — _blesses,_ really.

Cheers erupt from the crowd across the field, and Suga's gut clenches.

“Hey,” says Daichi. He puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We’ll be fine. It’s the first race, so there’s no expectations at least, right?”

Suga exhales, and shakes out his hands from the tight fists they’re in. “No expectations.”

The whistle blows, signalling the next heat.

“That’s us, Suga. Ready?”

Suga nods. _I can do this._ He walks to the starting line and accepts the orange baton, holding it tight in his right hand.

The relay will take place over four laps, each of them running one. Suga starts, with Daichi next, then Asahi, and Kiyoko running as anchor. They'd struggled with timing, in finding both their individual strides and one as a team, or even in securely passing the baton to one another. Still, despite whatever misgivings they might have had at the beginning of all this, they've come a long way since then.

“Runners, take your marks.”

He crouches in the start position. In the background, he hears Daichi, Asahi, and Kiyoko cheering for him along with their other teammates, and he closes his eyes for a moment.

_No expectations, Koushi, just do your best._

“Get set.”

He opens his eyes.

Nothing but track lies before him, the neat white lines curving against the red rubber.

The whistle blows, and Suga _runs._

**Author's Note:**

> Visit @runcharityzine on Tumblr -- thank you for all your support!
> 
> As always, a wild Cara will appear if a kudos or comment is left behind, or she can be found @carajay1317 on Tumblr!


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